


Punishment to Fit the Crime

by Hammocker



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Feeding, First Meetings, Hand Feeding, Humiliation, Is the food people?, Kinda long but not much really happens, Literally Poor Will, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Oral Sex, Poor Will, Porn, Season/Series 01, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-02 12:26:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8667664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/Hammocker
Summary: Will wanted a nice meal and some nice service, no strings attached. Of course, Will never really got anything he wanted, nor did he deserve to, so he wasn't sure why he expected things to go his way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should be working on other, bigger things. I should be finishing things. But no. I wrote this. I hope someone appreciates this.
> 
> Also, I don't know what that "- Freeform" thing is, attaching itself to my Maybe tag. I didn't put that there. What is dat, AO3? What is dat?!

Will took a deep breath. He could do this, he reminded himself. He had absolutely nothing to fear from fine dining.

It had taken him a couple months, but he’d managed to squirrel away enough money to pay for a meal at Pascua ex Plebes. Will was tired of his own egregiously bland cooking, tired of getting take-out from whatever counter service joint happened to be close by. He just wanted some nice food and nice-ish service, and Pascua was the most affordable high-class joint in the Baltimore area.

So why was he so damn nervous staring at the marble-esque facade in front of him? Twin statues of deer with enormous horns guarded the door and a fire burned not far from behind rich red window drapes. Something in Will’s mind made him feel like Dante about to embark with no Virgil to guide him. It was stupid and nothing bad was going to happen, he knew, but he was horribly uncomfortable.

Suck it up, he told himself and he finally approached the door and pushed in. He was immediately hit with how dark the place was. Not pitch black dark, but he couldn’t have read a book in the place if he tried. The quirks of the rich, he supposed.

A desk was immediately front and center as he entered, manned by a woman looking over a monitor. A short hallway stretched behind her and a barroom was set off to the left, practically glowing from the level of light behind the bar. It reminded Will of a Christmas tree with glasses of varying shapes and size hanging upside down off their rack and illuminated like ornaments. The woman glanced up at the sound of the door closing.

“I had a reservation,” Will said before she could speak. “Graham, Will.”

“Graham,” she echoed, tapping on an unseen keyboard before looking up again to give him a cool smile.

“Excellent, we’re very pleased to have you this evening.” She stepped out from behind the desk. “May I take your coat, sir?”

Will shook his head dumbly.

“No, I’m- might need it.” Why Will tried to speak, he would never understand.

“Very well. Right this way.”

She led him into the equally, if not even darker, dining room. Will had to wonder how many lighting-related spills they had regularly. Beyond the darkness, the quiet and emptiness of the place struck Will. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised, since he had been particular about going a long while after lunch, but before dinner. A few people sat at tables, mostly couples or loners. A whispered conversation could be heard here and there, but only the smallest snatches and fragments. Will wasn’t there for conversation, though, he was there for food.

Desk lady pulled out a chair at a table far in the back of room and cleared away one of the menus sitting opposite to it. Well, Will would have a great view of the wallpaper and some paintings that Will could barely see in the limited light. Maybe that was for the best. Usually things were the way they were for a reason, after all.

“You’ll be taken care of momentarily,” she told him before scooting off back from whence she came. Maybe the waiter would make Will feel less out of place.

Will took off his jacket then and draped it over the back of his chair before sitting down. There was no need to be modest, he reminded himself. He was going to have what he wanted to have, not what he felt like he deserved. Will repeated that in his head over and over as he scanned his options.

“Hello, sir,” a voice said from behind him. “My name is Michael, I’ll be serving you tonight. Shall I start you with a drink?”

“Just- just the water. Please,” Will said. At least he was used to immediate regret.

“Alright,” he said. “Do take your time browsing. I’ll return momentarily to check in.”

With that, he paced off to attend to another table and Will was left staring at the menu in front of him. He already had an idea of what he wanted, but no harm in looking through.

The choices were varied and numerous, but not absurdly so. It was your standard steak with funny ingredients, salmon with a fancy rub of some kind, salads with odd mixtures of chicken and duck meat, a venison dish that was said to be the place’s signature. That certainly put the deer statues into perspective. The idea of having the mascot on the menu had always struck Will as a bit unsettling.

With his choices in mind, Will looked up to take in the dining room atmosphere. It was wide open, but not too enormous. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, but something about it gave Will pause. He stared at it for a long moment before realizing that it had an unusually Gothic structure to it. It stood out like a morbid thumb among otherwise prim and proper surroundings. Will might have even called it tree or even horn-like in its branching paths outward. Maybe it was just more of that stag theme.

“What shall I start you with, sir?”

Will started and whipped his head around towards Michael. He hadn’t even noticed his approach. Will needed to stop getting lost in his own head.

“The lobster tail, please,” he said a little too quickly. At least it was something he’d wanted this time.

“Excellent choice,” Michael said. “I’ll have it out in just a bit. Anything else?”

“No, no thank you,” Will said, ever fearful that he might just blurt out a “go away.” It was how he felt and how he felt was never that far from coming out his mouth.

“Please call me over if you do,” Michael told him before leaving once more. Good lord, Will couldn’t have called in this place if he wanted to. He had more than enough attention being waited on.

Will pulled his phone out of his pocket to check it only to find nothing. No surprise there. His eyes drifted back around the room, seeking any changes or just something to look at. Nothing new on ceiling, nothing on the walls, one of the patrons had left, but- As Will was ready to give up and start fidgeting, he spotted an out of place figure in the room. A fellow in a gray suit, striding about the room like he owned the place. His pace was slow, but confident and he seemed to be particularly interested in the decor. He was one of those men with a presence that preceded him and the second Will thought their eyes might meet, he put his head back down. Will wanted to eat and he certainly didn’t need any additional attention from some manager. 

His eyes stayed firmly on the finished tabletop for a long stretch. Will found himself tapping on the wood, trying to decide if the table was real or faux-material, counting the visible rings. No interesting knots or features like the wood in his home, just a smooth pattern of sorts. Will was bored. So this was why people usually ate out together. At least if he’d brought a book, attempting to read in the low light would have made things interesting.

His waiting paid off, thank God, as Michael came back out carrying a porcelain dish.

“Thank you,” Will said as the tail was set in front of him along with a small fork.

“You’re very welcome.” The sheer pleasantry of Michael’s voice was beginning to put Will off. “Have you decided on an entree?”

“The spring lamb. Please,” Will said, a little too stilted this time.

“Of course,” Michael said with a short nod. “Do enjoy in the meantime.”

Will said nothing and waited for Michael to get halfway across the room before taking the sight of his food. It was just the tail, supposedly grilled, and a cup of some kind of cocktail sauce on the side. Herbs that Will didn’t recognize covered the meat. It looked nice. It was just lobster and cocktail, but it was arranged like it was important and fancy. Will had known that that was a thing that these places did, but seeing it in front of his face gave him an appreciation for the idea. Not to say he’d necessarily adopt the practice himself. Will still had limited time after all.

The second that Will picked up his fork, all pretense of taking his time to appreciate the food went out the window. He shoved the fork through the boiled muscle and tore out a chunk, popping it into his mouth with no hesitation. Will stifled a sigh at the flavor. The flavor. He had something real to taste for once, but he was suddenly so hungry that he barely chewed before swallowing. From there, it was a fight to keep bites of meat in his mouth long enough to enjoy the taste, to preserve that moment of color when tongue met lobster. It couldn’t last.

Less than five minutes had passed before Will had scooped out all the largest chunks and was left picking out scraps. He was at least a little less starving at that point and more capable of appreciating what little was left. Not to mention, capable of surveying the room again. It was odd, thinking about how easily things could change in the room. People got up, utensils got moved around, things were cleaned up and taken away, and-

There was that guy again. Farther forward in the room, but he was closer than he had been since Will had seen him last. He looked to be talking idly with a lone patron, but Will suddenly felt a bit like a prey animal being circled in on. It was probably nothing to worry about, but Will was not feeling encouraged to make a return visit.

He sipped his water quietly and counted the seconds, keeping managerial man in his sights without staring. Every moment Will worried that he might turn around and notice, but before it could happen, Michael approached with another plate. 

“May I get you anything else, sir?” he asked as he placed the lamb down and cleared away the lobster’s remains.

“No, no,” Will said, staring down at his food.

“In that case, enjoy your meal.”

Once again, Will was left to his own devices.

God help him, the lamb was even more difficult to resist than the lobster. The chops were still steaming, the animal’s flesh browned but pinkish-white to light red inside. Mushrooms and broccolini stalks were placed around the meat and emphasized the coloration and the rich scent it was giving off. All of it was soaked in a brown sauce that struck Will as strangely appetizing. So much so that he couldn’t hold himself back.

He picked up his knife and fork and cut off both a chunk of meat and vegetables, skewering them all together before shoving it into his mouth. Maybe not the wisest choice. He was hit with an array of flavors all at once and his brain didn’t immediately process what was going on. All he really knew in that moment was that he wanted more.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the manager guy from earlier pass by his table, too close for comfort this time. Occupied as he was, Will didn’t get a good glimpse at him, but he could have sworn that the guy gave him a half-smile. Will was absolutely not going to turn his head to be sure, but that’s what it had looked like. Was it because of how he was eating? Was this guy a chef, admiring his work? That would make sense, but it was still more than a little creepy.

Will wasn’t stopping for anything. He wasn’t even sure if he could stop. It felt as though he was a starving animal, his mind shutting everything else out as he satisfied his needs. He half-expected himself to growl at anyone who got too close.

The closer he got to finishing, the slower he ate. As it became increasingly apparent that he was running out of lamb, he broke off smaller and smaller chunks, mixing them with the stalks more often, doing his best to make it last. Still, before he knew it, he was staring longingly at his final bite. Will stuck in his fork and soaked it in the sauce two, three, four times before finally bringing it up to his lips and biting down. It had cooled a bit in the time he’d spent holding off and he could really taste all the different elements coming together into one disgustingly good flavor. He couldn’t say what elements they were exactly, but he knew they were there. With a sense of regret, Will swallowed.

Will could feel the light lump that had developed in his stomach, warm and comforting for all it was worth. His eyes had grown heavy and even full, he still longed for more of the taste. He picked up one last tomato between his fingers, soaking it in the remaining sauce before all but swallowing it whole. If he didn’t watch himself, Will could have gotten used to food with real complexity in flavor. It was too good for him, especially when he was so used to the bland and the simple. Definitely couldn’t repeat this kind of meal any time soon.

The room was beginning to fill up, slowly but surely. He hadn’t noticed initially, but the sound of chatter and snobbish laughter was ramping up by the minute. More waiters were out on the floor dealing with people and Will couldn’t spot manager man anywhere. Probably a chef then. Must have been needed back in the kitchen.

Will saw Michael coming when he came skulking about again. He still wasn’t mentally prepared for the interaction, but at least he could anticipate.

“Can I interest you in any dessert tonight?” he asked. “Coffee or tea?”

“No, just the check, thanks,” Will said, doing his best to curb his curt tone.

“I’ll just be a moment then.”

Michael wasn’t kidding. He scurried off to somewhere unseen and was back before five minutes had passed.

“There you are,” he said, placing an open receipt sleeve in front of Will.

“Thank you,” Will droned, running on instinct by this point.

He opened up the sleeve and skimmed over the text. Overpriced food, tax, tip calculated for him even, it was all there. They had their bases covered. Great. Will reached back into his jacket pocket to take out his wallet and began counting out bills. He generally preferred paying in cash. Credit only encouraged him to spend what he didn’t have.

As he was reaching the end of the money he’d brought, however, Will’s heart sank into his belly. Sixty, seventy, seventy-five, seventy-six… Oh, no. Oh, no, no, _no_. He wasn’t carrying enough to cover all the costs. He was fifteen dollars short. He’d thought about this for so long and brought all he could afford to, but it hadn’t been enough. Shit. What did he do now? What could he say? He didn’t want to gip the place, but he just didn’t have any more. Don’t panic, don’t panic, he told himself. Panicking and making it obvious that something was wrong was not going to help. Maybe he could just…

Will glanced around at the room, pulling his jacket on as casually as he could. Michael was nowhere to be seen. No one else knew what was going. No creepy chef watching him to make sure nothing like this happened. He slipped the money he had brought into the sleeve and closed it, leaving it on the table.

Will stood up mechanically, forcing himself to put on a guise of certainty in himself. He strode across the room towards the entrance area and reminded himself to not run at least five times. He could make it like this, just one step after another, one step after another.

Every second felt like infinity until he finally reached the hall leading to freedom. He’d never be able to set foot in the place again, but that was fine. He hadn’t wanted to anyway. In fact, he never wanted to eat fancy again because clearly he couldn’t be trusted to do so. That was fine. He’d done perfectly well without any complex foods for most of his life and he would continue that pattern until the day he died. Nothing wrong with that.

The doors were in sight and Will couldn’t breathe. No one had come running after him yet, but he was scared it would happen at any second. It could happen at any second. It could and he’d only made it more likely by trying to run. If he’d only... 

“It’s customary to wait until your bill is collected before leaving,” a calm, accented voice said from the barroom doorway.

All of Will’s blood ran into his face at once. He looked to the side and found the guy who’d been wandering around earlier staring at him expectantly. So this was it. He was caught, ratted out, done in. What could he do? Bolt? Run away and never come back? Lie and claim that he figured it wasn’t a problem? Explain himself and beg for forgiveness? That last one seemed like the least childish option.

“Is something wrong?” the man asked, as though he didn’t already know.

“I’m- I’m really sorry,” Will stuttered as he worked to make the words come. “This is just- really- it’s embarrassing for me.” As he spoke, Will made a concerted effort to evade eye contact. “I’ve been saving to go out here for a while and I thought I had everything figured out, but I guess I didn’t completely and I- well, I might have been a few dollars short.” 

“I see,” the man said, no emotion betrayed in his voice.

“I was way out of line trying to leave like that,” Will continued, throat threatening to close up on him. “If I can do anything to make it up to you, just- tell me.”

Will was blubbering, he knew, pointlessly blubbering. What was this guy gonna do? Make him wash dishes? Call the cops so they could lock him up for less than a week? It wasn’t that big of a deal. Will didn’t understand why he hadn’t stopped him. He’d just stood there watching Will with intent until he was done. He hesitated to respond until a subtle smile crossed his lips.

“All you had to do was speak up, my dear,” he said at last.

Huh? Not even a single reprimand? No demand to get the hell out of his establishment? Will looked up at him, incredulous.

“These things happen on occasion and we deal with them as such,” he explained, giving Will an almost affectionate gaze, as though he were a child.

The man took out a pad of paper and a pen from his pocket, and jotted something down on it. He held it out for Will to take and, after a short pause, Will did, scanning it. For a moment, all Will could see was the handwriting, swirly yet prim and neat.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“The place and time at which I’d like to see you tomorrow evening,” the man said, like it was a shopping list or a phone number. “You may stay home, but I expect you to never come through these doors again should you choose to do so.”

So he had a choice and time to think. Okay. He could deal with that.

“Fair,” Will said, nodding.

“And your name is…?”

“Will Graham,” Will said, as though it was a confession.

“Hannibal Lecter, owner and operator.”

Lecter extended his hand to Will. Was attempting to essentially steal from him not a problem in his mind? Was he that financially secure? Did this happen often?

“Hi,” Will breathed, reaching out and accepting the handshake.

“And hello to you,” Lecter reciprocated. His grip was solid and unyielding and lingered a little too long. Will was no slouch, but it made him nervous.

“I’ve enjoyed meeting you, Will, but I’m needed elsewhere,” Hannibal told him, glancing back towards the dining room.

Will nodded and thought about speaking again, but thought better of it.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” Hannibal said, confident as could be.

He smiled at Will once more before turning and disappearing back into the dimly lit abyss of the dining hall.

Once again, Will looked down at the note he’d been given. An address. Seven in the evening. He’d be out of work by then, he’d even have time to take care of his dogs beforehand. It felt like Hannibal had taken time to think about this, but that couldn’t be. He couldn’t have predicted Will would come in and not have quite enough money to pay for his food. Could he? No. Big, stupid coincidences happened and they happened a lot to Will. He’d go to wherever Hannibal wanted him and he’d make it up. Hannibal seemed nice enough and Will could take care of himself, so why not? He just wished the no-longer-comforting pit in his stomach would go away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [Kat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDeception/pseuds/SocialDeception) for helping me look this over. And for ruining me via convincing me that this needs another chapter. Fuck you and your good ideas, my dear.

Will glanced down at his note and up at the massive house in front of him for the second time. It was definitely the right number, but he had a hard time believing a restaurant owner made enough money to live in a house like this in the middle of Baltimore. Charging separately for side dishes must have counted for something.

He approached the door and pressed the bell in, his chest growing tighter and tighter every second. Would Lecter even answer? What did he want? Why had he really been so forgiving with Will? Was Will absolutely sure that he was in the right place?

He heard the door creak open and could no longer breathe. Lecter stood in the doorway, wearing a frock-apron-thing over his clothes, and gave him the same slight smile he’d given the prior night.

“Hello, Will,” he said. “I’m pleased to see you.”

“Hi,” Will greeted him, barely capable of looking up.

“Do come in,” Lecter said, inviting him with a gesture. “I’m almost finished preparing our dinner.”

Dinner? He had to be joking. Right?

“You, uh- what?” Will stuttered as he cautiously stepped inside. He stared around at an oversized foyer at the same time as his nostrils were hit with a scent that had his stomach remembering the previous night. No, bad, he quite literally couldn’t afford to get used to anything like that.

“I couldn’t very well invite a guest without preparing a meal,” Lecter told him, no apparent irony in his voice. He shut the door behind Will, immediately inducing the sense that he was now trapped.

“I try to shortchange you and now you’re gonna feed me for nothing?”

“Proper hosting isn’t nothing,” Lecter said. “I’d be remiss if I didn’t cook for all of my guests.”

“You’re feeding me because it’s polite?” Will asked, uncertainty lost in an underlying sarcasm. Not wise, Mr. Graham.

Lecter gave him another smile, like his questions were most adorable things he’d ever heard.

“It’s my pride and joy in life,” he informed Will with a similar underlying sarcasm. At the same time, though, he seemed utterly earnest in his sentiment. Will didn’t know what to make of that.

“Come,” Lecter instructed with a gesture before heading further into the house.

With no desire to be alone in the too-spacious parlor, Will scooted after Lecter. 

Lecter led him through a hallway and into a similarly enormous kitchen. At least that much was appropriate given Lecter’s line of work

“What would you like to drink?” Lecter asked once he was behind the marble-topped island in the middle of the room. Will’s gaze was drawn to a pair of spotless porcelain plates already set down on top of them.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Of course it does,” Lecter corrected him. “Drink impacts the flavor of food.”

“Coulda told you that,” Will said with a shrug.

Lecter didn’t respond, he simply turned around and opened his fridge. For a moment, he silently hunted with his eyes before pulling out a bottle of wine.

“Learning to select the proper accompaniment will greatly improve the experience,” he explained as he took out two wine glasses and easily uncorked the bottle.

It was impossible to look away from Lecter as he went about pouring the wine. Will couldn’t quite discern why, but the way he moved, the way he held the bottle, the way the wine cascaded into the glass, it was all unbearably enticing. Will felt his face heat up a bit as he watched. The room was a little hot and stuffy, that was all.

“Taste,” Lecter said, holding out a glass for Will to take.

Will obliged, just barely brushing Lecter’s fingers as he took the glass and sipped. Dry, full flavor. Something else in there with the grapes, something fancy. Not strong enough for Will’s tastes, but he wouldn’t put it past himself to chug the bottle if the mood struck him.

“It’s good,” Will said with a nod and another sip.

“It goes well with pork,” Lecter informed him as he leaned down, opened an oven, and pulled out a tray full of cutlets.

“I didn’t have the time to ask about any dietary restrictions last night,” he continued, eying him. It wasn’t a statement, though, it was a question, even Will could understand that much.

“None,” Will said, shrugging. “I’ll eat just about anything you put in front of me.”

“We’ll have to fix that then, won’t we?” Lecter mused, as he migrated the cutlets from pan to plate.

Will’s nerves flared at the suggestion. What was Lecter talking about? There was nothing about being able to get his energy anywhere that needed fixing. It suited him fine.

“Right,” Will said under his breath.

“I’ll have these ready in a moment,” Lecter told him, focus intent on the plates. He gave a vague gesture towards a doorway. “The dining hall is that way. Seat yourself if you please.”

It wasn’t really a command, but Will wasn’t about to say no. He quietly made his way out of the kitchen and into the dining room. A long table greeted him, a fireplace at its side and windows behind it. Two places were already set, one at the very end and one to its left. Seat yourself indeed. Will made his way down to his place and sat down, willing himself to relax.

It was several more minutes of tense waiting before Lecter strode out into the dining room, plates in hand and apron-thing removed. He placed a dish down in front of Will first then his own.

“And this is…?” Will started, choking on his own words before he could finish.

“That would be telling, wouldn’t it?” Lecter asked, sitting beside him. It sounded like a joke, but there was no indicator of humor in Lecter’s voice. With an expectant nod, he declared, “Bon appétit, Will”

Will dared to look down at his food and found a strikingly familiar mixture of meat and vegetables. The pork was sliced thin and neatly arranged one on top of the other, with some kind of strained zucchini and sauteed onions. Its scent hit him like a freight train, making his stomach rumble. And if he wasn’t mistaken, the portion size was slightly larger than the prior night

It didn’t take much for him to give in and slice off a bit of pork, taking it into his mouth faster than he’d have liked to. He was struck once again with a burst of flavor and color and feeling, robust life in a tiny bit of food. He hadn’t eaten more than a piece of toast the entire day and suddenly being exposed to this was far, far more than he deserved. That fact alone, though, couldn’t hold him back.

Will went at his food at as rapid a pace he could manage without coming off as no better than a starving animal. He felt Lecter’s eyes on him every now and again, but he didn’t care. That surprised him most of all, the not caring. He was used to worrying constantly about how he was seen, to the point of hiding away whenever possible. Hunger really was the most base of emotions.

About halfway through his meal, Will heard Lecter speak up.

“What’s your line of work, Will? If I may ask.”

Will didn’t immediately process the question. He chewed the onion in his mouth a couple more times before swallowing as an answer came to him.

“I, uh, I teach,” he stuttered.

“Ah,” Lecter said and Will just barely caught a knowing half-smile pique at his lips.

“Yeah,” Will said lifelessly. “Criminal psychology law and order type stuff. Nothing too interesting.”

Lecter gave the briefest of pauses between picking up his wine and responding, “Is that so?”

“It is so,” Will said, nodding with no enthusiasm. “Better than getting dragged out into the field.”

“Why would you be dragged out?”

“I’m “gifted.”” Will enunciated the word with a roll of his eyes. Why was he talking about this? “Give me a crime scene and I can tell you what happened at it exactly.”

“An eye for detail?”

“Something like that. It’s like- like I can get into their head. See things through their eyes.” Will felt a shudder run down his spine. “Try to avoid it if I can.”

“A sick mind is a burden,” Lecter mused. “To allow one or many to inhabit your own for any amount of time is a grave risk. I don’t blame you.”

Lecter cut off there, taking another bite of his own food without any indication he’d continue. Was Will supposed to continue the conversation? Maybe? Worth a shot.

“And you just- have your place?” he asked, hoping his meaning was clear.

“No,” Lecter replied near instantaneously, as though the mere thought was an affront. “No, Pascua is a hobby and a venue for sharing my craft. As well as an opportunity to meet like-minded individuals.”

“Individuals with disposable income and a love for eating in the dark?”

Lecter’s laugh was short and breathy, but Will was shocked to hear a laugh from him at all.

“Sometimes,” he said. “Other times, merely people whose presence I welcome.”

“What’s your real job then?”

“Psychotherapy,” Lecter answered coolly. “I specialize in particularly violent cases, criminal even.”

Oh. Well, that explained the apparent knowledge about “sick minds.”

“Guess I should be calling you Doctor Lecter then.”

“I won’t squabble over titles. I’d much prefer we kept minimal formalities.”

They’d only just met - on less-than-ideal terms no less - and Lecter had already invited him over for dinner. How much more minimal could the formalities get?

“Why are you treating me as a friend?” Will asked before hastily adding, “Hannibal?”

“Has my interest in you not been obvious?”

“I don’t think anything about you is obvious,” Will said, desperately trying to keep the uncertainty out of his voice. “I don’t think most people are obvious, but you’re- you. I don’t know what to make of _you_.”

“I don’t believe you know as little as you prefer to think,” Hannibal said, casually taking another bite of his meat.

Well, what he said wasn’t wrong per se, but the way he said it irked Will. Despite that, Will bit his lip and kept quiet.

“You worry about the things you know. How it might impact your psyche,” Hannibal told him, his certainty beginning to unnerve Will. “I’d had that impression. I’m almost disappointed I was correct. It gives me no pleasure to hear of your tribulations.”

Something that had been eating at Will for the better part of the evening was quickly coming to forefront of his mind. With all the talk of knowing things and denial, he was having trouble keeping it to himself. He didn’t want to ask, but the ambiguity was killing him.

“Are you- courting me?” Will asked, wincing a bit.

“I wouldn’t deny it.”

A chill ran down Will’s spine. That was definitely a yes. Wonderful, now he had to work with that.

“Is there any reason why?” Will asked slowly.

“Should there be?” Hannibal countered. “I was drawn to you last night and hoped I’d find the opportunity to extend an invitation. I’ve only found myself more drawn to you as we’ve spoken.”

And he was attracted to Will too. Maybe that should have been obvious, but knowing for sure only drove Will into further discomfort. He wanted to just run, but he’d already tried to run, hadn’t he?

“I’m here because I’m trying to make amends, not for a- a date.”

“You feel guilt for what you did last night?” Hannibal asked, distinctly unimpressed.

“Wouldn’t have had a problem bolting on you if I didn’t.”

“You left what you could, Will, and over such a small sum, the difference means nothing,” Hannibal said, fixing him with a questioning gaze. “Yet still you feel guilty?”

Will could only shrug.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have tried to just leave.”

Hannibal had another sip of his wine before placing it down and giving Will a gentle look.

“How would you like me to approach this?” he asked.

“I- I don’t know,” Will said, shaking his head. “I want to make up, somehow, that’s all. Do something about it.”

“You wish for punishment to vindicate your repentance?”

“I guess.”

Hannibal’s eyes cast downward briefly as he appeared to consider the situation. Will barely breathed as he waited, unsure of what to expect.

“You ran when simply explaining yourself would have resolved the situation, a childish thing to do,” Hannibal surmised, eying Will with borderline disappointment. “A child’s mistake warrants a child’s punishment.”

“What, you’re gonna spank me?” Will asked before he could so much as think.

Hannibal gave the subtlest of smirks.

“What an apropos suggestion, Will.”

Why did Will even open his mouth, really?

Hannibal stood from his seat and gathered his conspicuously empty plate and utensils. When had he finished? Will still had a good chunk of meat left and there was no way Hannibal had been eating faster than him.

“You have five minutes. Finish,” Hannibal told him, a newfound command in his voice. Without another word, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Will was a little stunned. He was still getting over the spanking suggestion and now he was being ordered to finish his dinner like a misbehaving child? Well. He supposed that wasn’t unexpected. That was exactly what he’d asked for, sort of, and he was not about to disobey his host.

He took up a brisk but steady pace of chewing and swallowing, all the while listening to the muffled sounds of running water and clacking plates from the kitchen. Will had been avoiding the zucchini, but now shoveled it down as quickly as possible, soaked in juice. He’d never been the biggest fan of gourd-type vegetables. Not that he would complain about Hannibal’s decision. He needed the vitamins after all.

As he was sipping some leftover pork juice from the tips of his fork, Hannibal entered once again. Will placed it down right away and kept his eyes low. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to meet Hannibal’s eyes just then. Or ever.

Hannibal loomed over him for a moment, assessing both Will and his plate alike. Will didn’t dare look up to see his expression, but he held his breath nonetheless.

“I see you’re capable of behaving appropriately,” Hannibal said, a hint of surprise in his voice. “I’m afraid, though, that I still must take disciplinary action.”

That was new. He was definitely being treated like a child in need of chastising. What was Will supposed to make of that? It was weird, really weird, but he had the strangest inclination to go along with this little game.

“I understand,” he said, small and meek.

“Good boy,” Hannibal practically purred, reaching over and petting Will’s scalp. Oh, that was really weird, but it felt _good_. Will leaned into the touch without thinking. He’d take discipline if it meant more of that, even if he’d never presume to ask for it.

“Come,” Hannibal said at last, waving for Will to follow him.

Will hopped to his feet and trailed after Hannibal as he exited through a hallway. It wasn’t long before they’d scaled a flight of steps up to the second floor. Will’s heart had been thumping since Hannibal had left him in the dining hall, but fighting gravity as they walked upstairs had it practically pounding. Many things made Will nervous, but he couldn’t remember anticipating as he was just then since he was in school. Would he pass, would he fail? He just didn’t know and got his blood pumping too fast in his veins.

By the time Hannibal stopped in front of a door and pushed it open, Will was close to shaking. He’d only barely processed that his ass was about to get beaten, somehow or another. It was like a bizarre dream, somewhere between gratifying and terrifying. He’d never really been spanked as a child and he’d certainly never sought it out as an adult. Of course, there was always the possibility that Hannibal was playing some elaborate prank on him, getting him worked up over nothing. Will wouldn’t have been surprised, but something in his gut told him that that wasn’t the case.

Hannibal gestured for him to enter to the room first and Will obliged, albeit lazily. He stepped into the room and glanced around, not sure what he was or wasn’t supposed to do. The two things that immediately stood out were the huge bed and the fireplace. Master bedroom. Hannibal’s bedroom. Oh, boy, this was gonna be a wild ride, wilder than he’d ever anticipated.

“Take your jacket, shoes, and belt off and make yourself comfortable,” Hannibal ordered. “I’ll return in a moment.”

Belt. Ominous. He could do this though; he could make himself do this even if it was going to hurt.

As Hannibal headed off, Will did as he was told, first slipping his shoes off and leaving them near the door. He removed and folded his jacket as best he could, and seeing no obvious place for a jacket, he left it on the coffee table near the fireplace. His belt met a similar fate, a little more reluctantly on Will’s part. He’d said spanking, not whipping, and Hannibal didn’t seem cruel enough to go that route. Don’t come back to bite, belt, please.

Will made his way over to the bed and sat down at its foot. Hannibal had told him to make himself comfortable so that’s what he was going to do. He laid back on the top blanket, enjoying the soft envelopment of the bed. He could have slept there if he didn’t have other responsibilities; could have slept a hundred hours and still wanted to sleep more. It was getting late anyway and Will wasn’t about to complain about sleeping in a stranger’s bed. His eyes shut on their own and Will felt his breathing begin to even out.

“Tired?” a voice said from above him.

Will started, flailing a bit as he tried to sit up too quickly. Hannibal stood in front of him, an expectant stare on his face. He shouldn’t have been so surprised.

“A little,” Will admitted, sitting up. “Usually am.”

“Do you sleep well?”

“Not often.”

“Running from your troubles, chronic sarcasm, improper sleep...”

Hannibal clicked his tongue and Will’s heart dropped into his stomach. He felt his face run hot once again and ducked his head. A hand came down to touch his cheek, prompting him to look up again. He obliged hesitantly and found himself far too close to Hannibal’s discerning frown.

“How many offenses am I not aware of, Will?”

“Probably a lot,” Will said with a nervous smile.

“It won’t do, I’m afraid.”

Hannibal sat down next to him, shouldering a good bit of room away from Will. He shrank away from Hannibal, suddenly feeling very small in his wake.

“Over my lap, please,” Hannibal said, nodding to him.

Will hesitated to move, the pit in his stomach seeming to weigh him down. He’d gone along with this so far under the assumption that he’d be willing to go through with this part in particular. Sitting there, though, it was something else entirely. He still wanted to, but...

“ _Now_ , Will.”

Hannibal’s tone was only bordering on sharp, but it cut Will’s inhibitions like a razor. Face flushed, Will slid over to organize himself belly down over Hannibal’s lap. Hannibal gripped his hip, and easily rearranged him so his ass stuck out and, more uncomfortably, so his crotch pressed right up against Hannibal’s thigh. Will rested his face against the unbearably soft sheets, forcing himself to breathe at a steady pace.

“How many do you need?” Hannibal asked, one hand resting just under Will’s neck and the other rubbing at the small of his back.

Will gave a noncommittal grumble, not entirely sure what Hannibal expected. He didn’t need any.

“How many would ease your conscience?” Hannibal tried. “Ten? Fifteen? Just one?”

“Whatever you think is best,” Will mumbled, hoping it was the right answer.

_Crack_.

Will jolted as the first blow came down without warning. He groaned against the sudden sting, though, it wasn’t as painful as he’d expected. Either Hannibal was pulling his punches or Will had a high threshold for pain.

“That is what repentance feels like, Will,” Hannibal said. “Is this still the route you’d like to take?”

“Yes,” Will hissed, against his better reasoning. “Don’t hold back.”

“Interesting,” he heard Hannibal say before another blow cut off his train of thought.

The next seven or eight hits went by rapidly, Will’s head blowing up with the seemingly endless snap of flesh on flesh and the primal urge to get away. Pain wasn’t desirable, pain was something to be avoided at all costs, it was the most basic self-preservation mechanism. And yet Will toughed it out. Tense as he was, he took the onslaught with nothing more than a yelp every other smack.

It was almost overwhelming when Hannibal stopped suddenly. Will’s ass was stinging and blood pounded in his ears. He was in pain, absolutely, but there was something else, something he wasn’t quite processing.

“Ten,” Hannibal declared, fingers wandering up to Will’s scalp. “Do you feel cleansed?”

Will shook his head. He didn’t feel anything close to being clean; he didn’t know what he felt like at all really. The sensory overload made it hard to discern. He wanted to keep it up, though, despite himself.

“If that’s what you believe,” Hannibal said, almost regretfully.

Another rain of blows, harder than before. Will squirmed throughout, his toes curling involuntarily. The strange feeling was growing more and more apparent in its nature, and Will wasn’t sure if he wanted that. His pants were definitely tighter, even pressed right up against Hannibal. Oh no.

Hannibal rubbed his thigh up against Will’s groin experimentally. Even with his head down, Will could see the smirk piquing at his lips, rightfully amused at Will’s humiliation.

“Enjoying yourself, Will?” Hannibal asked, an egregious smug tint in his voice.

Will whimpered, hiding his face in his arm as best he could. He couldn’t remember being this utterly close to another human being in a very long time.

“I suspected you might.” Hannibal hooked a finger between Will’s flesh and pants, dragging them down just far enough to expose him.

Will took in a sharp breath as his partial erection hit the cool air. The spanking was one thing, awkward and strangely arousing, but serving a purpose. Hannibal blatantly trying to stimulate him was a different level. Yet still Will kept quiet.

The next five smacks came hard and just a second too slow each. Will jerked for each one, barely keeping his legs and feet under control. Pleasure and pain came two-fold, with both the slaps and Will’s inability to stop himself from pitching forward against Hannibal’s thigh. For all intents and purposes, Hannibal had him trapped in a feedback loop for as long as he cared to continue. Fortunately for Will, Hannibal was merciful enough to pause.

“You’re holding back, Will,” Hannibal said, rubbing over his burning skin.

Will winced at the touch, but couldn’t bring himself to resist. It was practically a relief after the flesh had been worked over anyway.

“What do you want me to do?” Will asked

“Don’t,” Hannibal said. “I’d like to hear you.”

_Crack_.

“ _A-ahn_ ,” Will moaned, eyelids fluttering as his head tipped to rest on his arm rather than hiding in it.

“Beautiful,” Hannibal preened. “That’s almost twenty-five. Certainly enough to erode any remaining guilt.”

Will nodded along at his words, barely even hearing them through his buzzing head. He felt tears pricking at his eyes and his throat burned a bit, but it wasn’t a bad feeling, really. Just odd.

“But you’ve enjoyed this so well.” Hannibal reached down to just barely brush Will’s erection. “I don’t suppose you knew that this form of discipline induces blood flow to the genitals.”

Will groaned at the slight touch, rocking against Hannibal’s knee. Well, maybe he’d known peripherally, but he hadn’t exactly anticipated for them to get to this point.

“If you feel suitably admonished, you’re welcome to leave,” Hannibal said, though, he made no move to take Will off his lap.

“I want…” Will started, taking in deep breaths.

“What would you like, my lamb?” Hannibal asked, leaning down just a bit.

Will squeezed his eyes shut as he flushed heavy with the thought of what he wanted. It would be too much to ask, he knew, but he wanted it anyway. He’d always wanted it and it had always been too good for him. Hannibal was too good for him.

A soft hand in Will’s hair cut off his train of thought.

“It would give me the utmost satisfaction to give you what you desire, Will,” Hannibal said, soothing across his scalp.

Will’s heart fluttered. It felt too good, laying there in Hannibal’s grasp, completely in his control at any given time. Maybe Hannibal was being sincere. Maybe he really did want Will. Maybe Will was being ridiculous, just like he always was. No harm in trying, he supposed.

“One more,” Will grumbled finally, lifting his head up to glance back at Hannibal. “And you.”

“I can provide that much,” Hannibal said, lips curling into another small smile.

_Crack_.

Will cried out once again and felt a trail of tears stream down from his eyes involuntarily. It hurt, it really hurt, but goddamn did it feel good too. His ass had to be red by now and the thought made him shudder. What did it say about him that he enjoyed being slapped by Hannibal?

True to his word, Hannibal gently picked Will up off his lap and arranged him belly-first on the bed.

“Would you like me to put some ointment on your bruises beforehand?” Hannibal asked, reaching out to caress his increasingly raw ass.

Will whimpered and shook his head.

“Can’t wait that long,” he said, grinding into the bed. “I want- need you.”

He turned his head to look at Hannibal properly.

“Need you,” he repeated, though whether it was more to himself or Hannibal, Will couldn’t say.

“I’m aware,” Hannibal said. That should have worried Will, but he was too lust-addled to ask questions.

Will heard Hannibal walk elsewhere in the room, absolutely no hurry to his pace. He heard the rustle of fabric as something or somethings were removed and stowed. If he’d had the will or energy, he might have lifted his head up to watch, but as it was, he barely had the motivation to touch himself. All he could do was lay there, sprawled out, listening to himself breathe and savoring the sting.

Sooner or later, Hannibal came back to the bed, kneeling down on it to loom over Will. He pulled Will’s pants the rest of the way off before going for his shirt. Will allowed him to remove what he pleased while barely moving himself.

“I’d much rather have you on your back, but given the state I’ve put you in, I doubt that would be comfortable,” Hannibal said, his words flowing together in Will’s mind. “Another time then.”

Another time? Will shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was still getting used to the idea of being desired.

He heard a cap pop open followed to the sound of slick skin rubbing together. It only lasted a moment before a wet hand gripped lightly at his ass while another kneaded just behind his balls. Will shuddered at the new sensation. He’d had sex, once or twice, but he’d never been touched there. He’d never expected it to feel good, but somehow, his cock was as rigid as ever. Hannibal was only massaging his entrance, coaxing it gently, but Will still had to remind himself to breathe.

All at once, a finger slipped in and Will’s throat closed up. It didn’t really hurt, but it was bizarre. _That_ wasn’t supposed to happen and his body had no qualms with telling him that.

“Breathe, Will,” Hannibal reminded him, rubbing down his back. “Allow yourself to relax.”

God, did he try. Will inhaled sharply only to exhale slowly and shakily. He kept up a rhythm, working to keep his muscles from tensing up. Hannibal, in turn, worked a second digit into him. Tears were pricking at Will’s eyes again, but he wanted to keep going. His erection was wilting a bit, but he trusted Hannibal to know what he was doing. Trusted Hannibal. Hell, what was he doing trusting someone he’d only met yesterday? He could be anything or anyone for all Will knew, he could be-

“A-ah,” Will whined, arching his back at a sudden electric rush of pleasure in his belly. 

“There we are,” Hannibal whispered, brushing up against the same spot.

Will winced against the sheer liquid heat burning through him then. It felt good, way too good and God help him, he wanted more.

“Hannibal,” Will hissed through his teeth. “I want- I want…”

He couldn’t seem to find the right words to articulate what he wanted exactly. Maybe he didn’t want to. Despite that, Hannibal laid an understanding palm over the small of his back.

“I know,” he said, lazily scissoring inside of Will. “You needn’t fear asking for what you want, Will. I won’t deny you.”

“Then get on with it,” Will demanded.

Hannibal slapped his thigh. It wasn’t on the meat of his ass where it was desperately sore, but it was a sharp sting still. Will whimpered and put his head down.

“Although, I do expect you to mind your manners,” Hannibal said, soothing the flesh he’d struck.

Will doubted that there were any teeth in the veiled threat, but he almost wanted there to be. He wouldn’t have minded being on a leash of sorts, having a set of standards enforced on him, being made to be straightforward without being rude.

“Please,” he tried, 

“Better.”

Without any pretense, Hannibal pulled his fingers out, drawing another whine from Will at the loss. It was a relief, but at the same time, he was suddenly missing the sense of being filled. Not exactly something he’d ever expected to experience, let alone miss. 

At least it wasn’t a long wait for Hannibal to reorient himself and Will. He beared down over Will, lining them up so he was parallel above Will. He hooked one arm around Will’s middle and pressed his chest to Will’s back. Will was taken aback for a moment by the amount of hair he felt brushing against his skin, but given what he could discern about Hannibal, that wasn’t surprising. What did surprise him was Hannibal leaning in to press his nose just under Will’s scalp and taking in a deep breath of his scent.

“Did you just-?” Will started.

“You’re exquisite, Will,” Hannibal breathed into his ear. “Everything about you.”

Will opened his mouth to respond, but the right words weren’t coming and Hannibal was already moving again. He lined himself up with Will, giving him his first sense of Hannibal’s very intimidating, very erect cock. Will’s breath caught in his throat as Hannibal brushed the tip against his hole, just barely coaxing. Hannibal used his free hand to massage Will’s shoulder, doing his best to distract and relax. It was oddly comforting and Will allowed himself to focus on it. How bad could a little penetration be? People did this all the time. What was the worst that could happen?

Without a warning, Hannibal slipped in and didn’t stop until he pressed flush against Will.

“Ah, fuck!” Will yelped, throat going sore on him.

It wasn’t a pain, no more than it had been before, but the pressure had ramped up. Suddenly Will’s ass was the least of his worries. Will inhaled and exhaled rapidly, like he was being squeezed from the inside out. He squirmed underneath Hannibal, seeking any kind of relief.

“Relax,” Hannibal repeated, a bit breathy himself. “It will pass.”

Both of Hannibal’s hands were free then and he used both the knead at Will’s flesh. One stayed at Will’s shoulder or wandered down his arm while the other had gone under Will, manipulating him into whatever position Hannibal thought best.

Will was beginning to suspect that all his effort had been in vain when Hannibal found it again.

“Fu-uck,” Will drawled, arms and legs working to sprawl out as far as they could go.

“Language, Will,” Hannibal chided, though, he didn’t slap Will this time.

What words came out of his mouth was the least of Will’s priorities. He felt too good to think about anything else. Everything move he made only ramped up the overwhelming lust and need pulsing through him. Need. He needed Hannibal to get on with it.

“Hannibal,” Will choked out, eyelids fluttering. “Move.”

“Have we forgotten our manners so soon?” Hannibal asked, taking on that familiar lofty tone.

“Please,” Will murmured into the sheets.

“Good boy.”

Without delay, Will felt Hannibal draw back, felt every single agonizing inch of it. He let out a groan throughout, clawing at the sheets until his knuckles turned white. It was like being a spring, pushed as tight as he could go and so very ready to release.

The first thrust was equally heaven and hell. Hannibal let out a distinctly undignified grunt, but Will was only barely aware of it. His eyes were unfocused and unblinking, and all he could do was keep still and take it. Hannibal set a paced rhythm, gentle enough to not agitate Will’s bruises, but hard enough to keep him overwhelmed. Will felt every in and out in his stomach, pushing his arousal into uncharted territory. He felt as though he should reciprocate somehow, but his position didn’t leave much room for movement.

At least, no movement he could have done on his own. Hannibal paused from his onslaught to lean down and lift Will’s middle, prompting him onto his knees. It was an easy enough position to maintain with Will’s chest still taking most of his weight, but it also allowed Hannibal more leverage over him. He had all the power in the world to go as hard on Will as he cared to and used it only to tease at a heavier pace. Every now and again between smooth, even motions, Hannibal would snap his hips, forcing a yelp out of Will. His ass hurt and the stimulation was too much, but it felt good. It felt good being both used and cared for like this. Being put in pain and given pleasure all at once. Everything about it was paradoxical in some way, but why should Will have cared? It was good. It was just good.

“Hannibal,” Will managed between choked gasps. “Please.”

“What is it you want, my dear?” Hannibal breathed behind his ear, keeping that same pace.

“More,” Will whined despite how pathetic he sounded. “I need- I need…”

Hannibal paused his movement as Will squeezed his eyes shut. He hated having to beg like he was. Hated having to rely on Hannibal or anyone. He’d always done everything for himself, taken every responsibility onto his own back and relied on no one. He never expected anyone to help him if he asked, never expected a thing. Why would he expect anything from Hannibal?

“Of course, Will,” Hannibal said after a moment.

And there was the strangest part: being told yes. Expecting rejection and finding acceptance. Will wasn’t sure if that or rejection made him feel more sick.

He didn’t have much time to think about it before Hannibal shifted their hips again. Will cried out as he started to pound in and out with abandon. Had Hannibal not been holding him in place, Will would have collapsed. His jaw fell open and his left leg pushed out behind Hannibal as his muscles strained. The position combined with the intense pleasure coursing through him gave little outlet for his need to grip and spasm. He wanted to grab at Hannibal, but he didn’t want to be pathetic. Even as Hannibal reached out to touch his hand, Will refused to grip.

Hannibal’s heavy breath echoed in his ear.

He wasn’t going to.

Murmurs in a language Will didn’t understand.

He couldn’t.

A short kiss on Will’s neck. Fuck.

Will hooked his arm around Hannibal’s and reached down to bring their palms together. He gripped hard as he let out a strained cry. His climax was well on its way and he fought to keep himself together.

The hand Hannibal had been using to hold him up migrated over to palm and stroke at Will’s cock. Will’s breath caught in his throat at the sudden touch. Nevermind that this man was penetrating him, being touched was what made him hesitate.

“Words cannot do you justice, Will,” Hannibal told him, words melding together.

If he’d been more coherent, Will would have snipped at that statement. As it was, though, Hannibal had him giving low moans between thrusts and strokes. There was no other way to put it: Hannibal had him by the balls. Somehow, he’d pushed Will to the point where he’d given up that agency, pushed him out of his sensitivities, and now was pushing him over the edge. He should have been more worried.

One more sharp inward thrust and Will felt his balls draw up as his orgasm hit. Will pushed his face against his arm and let out one long groan. He could feel himself coming, felt the viscous fluid as it expelled from him.

At the same time, Will felt Hannibal slam in twice more before he let out something between a groan and a sigh. He couldn’t really feel much from there, but Will was very aware that Hannibal had just released inside of him. No questions about whether Will wanted him to or not, he just did it. It made Will flush even harder.

The two of them stayed where they were for a long moment, catching their breath and basking in what Will supposed was afterglow. 

He felt good. The tension he’d been holding had been released. He was more satisfied than he’d been in a long time and he wanted to sleep.

Will was gently allowed to lay on his belly once more. He shivered as Hannibal pulled out, like a chill had run through him, before settling down there. Hannibal didn’t lay next to him, but Will didn’t care. He shut his eyes and started to drift off all the same, enveloped by the top blanket on the bed. Not even a glimmer of harsh light in his peripheral vision could deter him.

Within a moment of entering the dark, warm place he found in his dreams, though, a cold palm touched his ass. Will started awake and whipped his head back to find Hannibal sitting next to him once again.

“Wha…?” he sputtered out.

“Apologies,” Hannibal said, rubbing in some kind of ointment. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but neither of us want you to bruise any more than you have.”

“‘S fine, fine,” Will mumbled, putting his head back down. It wasn’t so bad actually, having Hannibal’s hands on him like this. He could have gotten used to it. Shouldn’t have, but could have.

The ass massage continued for a long while, soothing the lingering ache there. It eased Will back into a relaxed state, but the stimulation was enough to keep him awake. Will didn’t really mind, didn’t even think about it anymore. Hannibal having access to him like this was normal, welcome even. He didn’t question it when those hands shifted onto the rest of his body. Hannibal felt down his sides, his hips, his thighs, exploring new ground. Will felt like he was the center of affection right then and it was nice. He was too tired to think about anything beyond that.

“You’re thin, Will,” Hannibal commented out of the blue.

“‘Scuse me?” Will slurred.

“Have you checked your weight recently?”

“Uh-uh,” Will mumbled, shaking his head sluggishly.

“Please do,” Hannibal said, squeezing Will’s hipbone. Only just then did Will realize how badly it jutted out. Maybe he had been skipping a few more meals than he should have. “By sight alone, your condition is less than ideal.”

“And you- you want to fix me?”

He heard Hannibal breathe out a single laugh.

“There’s nothing to be fixed,” Hannibal said.

Will couldn’t help but mirror his laugh.

“I don’t think even I’d agree with that,” he said, shaking his head.

“Then you’re wrong,” Hannibal told him, firm and steadfast.

Hannibal pulled down the blankets from the head of the bed, unveiling the bottom sheet below. He scooped up Will, still facing forward, and practically dragged him up towards the pillows. There, he arranged Will on top of himself and pulled the blankets over them both. Hannibal was warm, Will knew that already, but it only struck him once Hannibal had him locked in place with one arm. He didn’t need to draw up into himself to keep the chill out of his bones, not with the heat from the body under him. On top of that, Will finally had a view of Hannibal’s chest rug and he was less perturbed by it than he’d anticipated. Anything was a good pillow when one was tired.

Will rested his head against Hannibal’s chest, prepared to try and sleep once more. He only had a moment to himself before Hannibal reached down to start petting him down his scalp. Will’s eyes flickered back open immediately. Sleeping in a bed with anyone but a dog was going to be a chore.

“Some courtship,” Will muttered. “Sex on the first date, that’s- not exactly conventional.”

“Who am I to deny you what you so clearly desire?”

“What? You?”

“Doting,” Hannibal said, like it was so simple.

“Doting?” Will echoed, unsure he’d heard right. “I promise you, Hannibal. I don’t want to be waited on.”

“Would you sooner starve than have someone else tend to your needs?”

“No. I think.” Will shut his eyes. “Sometimes.”

Hannibal leaned down and pressed his nose against the top of Will’s head, giving him a light nuzzle.

“You’re a curious creature,” he said, warm breath jostling Will’s hair. “I’m determined to keep you.”

That was a little ominous. Or, that was what Will told himself. He wasn’t entirely sure about anything anymore, but he’d grown ever more apathetic to the idea of Hannibal caring for him in every sense of the word. Maybe he’d even warmed to it a little. But then again, maybe he was just exhausted. Yeah, he decided, definitely the exhaustion getting to him. He’d leave the whole Hannibal issue for another day; for the time being, he was content to slip into a dreamless slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

Will took in one shaky breath after another as he sat in total darkness. Soft, black fabric covered his eyes and rope bound his arms behind the stiff chair he was sat in. His legs were splayed as well, tied to the legs of the chair. Everything was quiet in the room and a slight chill raised gooseflesh on his exposed skin. The rigid back of the chair would cause him aches later, but it didn’t matter. What did matter, was that even as his nerves pricked under his skin, Will wasn’t afraid.

The scent of food being cooked wafted around him. He’d eaten earlier in the day, twice in fact, but the smell of something rich and warm on a griddle had his stomach rumbling again. Just a few weeks ago he could barely eat one meal a day and now it was a minimum of three. How he’d been coerced to eat so much, Will couldn't understand, but he wasn't complaining. He was more at ease than he’d been in a long time, more relaxed, maybe happier even.

He’d been waiting there for at least half an hour, alone with his thoughts and the anticipation. Will didn’t mind. Usually he didn’t have anything to look forward to so it was a pleasant change of pace. It wasn’t unwelcome, however, when he heard light footsteps crossing the silent room and the taps of silverware as it was placed the table he knew was in front of him. Will just barely caught a whiff of bread and butter, but he doubted that that was all that was on the plate. 

Waiting for something to happen at that point was almost worse than waiting the hour beforehand. Will had an idea of what was going to happen, but exactly how it would happen was still up in the air. Finally, though, Will felt the light press of some sort of bread at his lips.

Will accepted easily, taking the morsel in his teeth before pulling the rest into his mouth. It was a tiny little thing, but the _flavor_. Definitely toasted bread of some kind, and fish. Maybe fish. Will could barely distinguish fish from poultry, but, either way, the food wasn’t unwelcome.

The bits of bread kept coming from then on, though, they weren’t all fish-poultry. Some tasted beefy, others more vegetable-y, and some almost seemed like they were egg-covered. It was a pleasant enough range of taste and Will was glad for not knowing what exactly he was eating beforehand. True surprises were better than suffering through tension and worry, after all.

A moan was ripped from Will a second before he could accept another bread bit. It had been quiet for so long that even the sounds he himself made surprised him. Someone had leaned down and given his flaccid cock a suck. Will couldn’t remember ever getting a blowjob from anyone, making him completely unprepared for the sensations one brought. Slick, wet heat all around him compounded with the plush inner flesh. It was too much. The mouth wasn’t stopping either; it only swallowed him down farther, pushing him into arousal. Talk about surprises.

Even as Will got his dick sucked, savory bread was still being insistently pushed at his lips. He could hardly continue at first, his mouth completely occupied by the moans of processing and pleasure. Once the mouth on him had eased into a gentle rhythm of sucking and swallowing around him without demanding too much, he was able to continue being fed.

Although, “able” didn’t necessarily translate to “willing”. Will allowed a couple more pieces in before he gritted his teeth as the mouth on him swallowed hard. His head lolled back and he whimpered to keep himself quiet. He was doing his best to tolerate, to keep himself from going off early, but it couldn’t last long. Will had no idea what was expected of him, if anything at all, so he had to follow his instincts. If he didn’t get a sign soon…

What sounded like a low, quiet growl came from behind Will and, just like that, the mouth slid off of him. He had to wonder exactly who was doing the dick sucking, but then, the entire idea was for him to not know. Not knowing kept at least some of his anxiety down. Not having to look at or make eye contact with anyone was an enormous boon given the small price of giving up his eyes temporarily. It was a vulnerability, but it was just as much a shield.

Will straightened his back once again, bringing his head up and hoping that that was what he was supposed to do. With no warning, the next food object against his lips was slick and moist, nothing like the bread. Will grabbed it easily and pulled it in onto his tongue, appreciating the texture. Sashimi? Maybe not quite, but something like it. It was fishy, that much he was certain of. Will only gave a few half-hearted chews before swallowing it down near-whole. It was only a small piece and if the slick sensation in his throat didn’t feel good, Will didn’t know what did.

The fish came more slowly than the crackers. Will was given ample time to chew and savor to his heart’s content. Once or twice, though, he may not have chewed at all. The fish was so smooth and just small enough that he could let it slide right down his throat, enjoying the light pressure all the while. The act likely would have brought some kind of reprimand down on him any other night, but this was a special occasion. Will was allowed to be a little cheeky. Not to say he would go unpunished, but it wasn’t an immediate worry.

All at once, Will realized that he wasn’t being offered any more fish. The presence behind him disappeared and he heard plates clack together. More footsteps, this time away from him. A pair of hands, thinner and less certain than he was used to, came in to coax him to slide his lower half forward, exposing himself further. The touch was unfamiliar, much more so than the mouth contact, and Will couldn’t help but tense. He only had a few seconds to anticipate before whoever was in front of him stuck a tongue against his asshole.

Will let out another unhinged cry at the decidedly unkosher move. It wasn’t the first time he’d been tongued like that, but the few times Hannibal had tried it, Will hadn’t let it go on long. He couldn’t handle the mess it reduced his mind to. Will was enough of a mess as he was; he didn’t need his brain melted by overstimulation. He was tempted to shout for it to stop, to fidget away from the mouth on him, but he had no room for speaking or moving. Much as he tried to push his feet forward, they were locked fast in place. The mouth from earlier came in to lave directly against his entrance and under his balls. Will’s head tipped back and his neck strained with effort. 

Time seemed to pass both too fast and too slow the longer the stimulation continued. It wasn’t quite enough to push him into orgasm, but it kept him gripped in arousal. Pathetic whines and groans let loose from his throat, and Will barely had the facilities to shift away, mentally or physically. All he could do was ride it out.

All at once, Will could breathe and think again. His chest heaved and he couldn’t feel anything against his perineum. Will couldn’t move too far, but his body went slack, his head lolling against the edge of the chair’s back. He’d not even noticed the sound of the presence from earlier returning before he heard a new plate being set down in front of him.

Will didn’t even try to lift his head back up. All he needed to do was wait and, before long, he felt something warm come towards his lips. Some kind of vegetable by the heady, earthy scent. He lazily pulled it into his mouth and found the texture lush, if a bit soft for his tastes. The flavor could only be described as decent; bitter, but not inedible. Will took his time chewing and only once he’d swallowed was he offered a second bit. The feeding followed his patterns rather than the earlier insistence for him to eat as he was instructed. It was easy and pleasant and Will was grateful for it.

Of course, he couldn’t forgot the third party presence. He was given a long reprieve from sexual stimulus and had returned to a state of only partial arousal. It was nothing less than a relief. He could take the attention and he could take the feeding easily, as long as they were separate. Of course, none of this was supposed to be easy, now was it?

Will barely reacted when a hand came in to palm at his half-hard cock. He tensed, but accepted it more readily than he had before. He wasn’t accustomed to those hands at all, but he had no option other than to trust them. At least he couldn’t blame himself for anything that happened.

At first, it was almost relaxing. The only movements were gentle strokes as he was fed at his own pace. He was in a reasonably comfortable place despite his poor posture. It was almost more strange than being a little on edge, really. Will couldn’t help but find his stomach twisting into a knot the longer he was prohibited from taking care of himself. It felt alien and wrong, allowing his most base needs to be handled by anyone but himself.

Will’s stomach only twisted further when a blunt digit pressed against his entrance. He clenched his teeth hard against the stalk he’d been chewing and felt himself slip down further in his seat. His legs were desperately trying to fidget or lash out or anything, but their restraints held them firmly in place. Familiar, strong hands came up against his sides to steady him as he squirmed and cried out. The penetration burned more than he was used to, but he could get used to it. He could be patient. Only once he was more or less still did the hands disappear.

The feeding continued at that point in tandem with the exploratory fingering. Will was a little more prepared this time, and continued to eat steadily. Even as a second finger pushed past his rim and his eyes watered, Will kept taking bites. Whatever was on that plate couldn’t last forever so it was better to get it out of the way. He’d only grow more distracted the longer he waited.

Sooner or later, of course, the inevitable happened. Will moaned, nearly spitting half-chewed greens, as fingers brushed up against his prostate. The hands from earlier came up to pull his head back and massage his throat, preventing any spillage, but Will heaved as he worked to process the electric waves spilling out from his belly. The touches to his prostate were inconsistent, almost playful in their intent. He was being teased, no doubts there. A gentle brush here and there to make him pull at his restraints. An unfulfilling tap to make his breath hitch. He was barely getting a single leaf down when food was offered. He wouldn’t have minded another throat massage.

Just for icing on the cake, that damn mouth came back, sucking gently around the head of his cock. Will would have either been curled into a ball or flailing were he not tied down. He’d grown used to a certain level of sensory input over the past weeks, but not like this. Not blindfolded and being touched and teased by someone he didn’t know. It was different, but he trusted Hannibal. Trust Hannibal.

Will pitched forward as the mouth swallowed him down to the hilt, fingers thrusting hard against his prostate all the while. His balls were drawn up tight and he wasn’t sure if climax was meant to be an option just yet. It was going to be impossible to hold back if everything kept up. There were hands on his scalp then, petting and soothing the increasingly damp flesh there. He was so close, too close, too close...

Before he could find his release, though, the mouth abruptly pulled off of him and the fingers pulled out. The open air hit Will like a freezing gust and he had to sob at the loss. He knew he shouldn’t have expected anything else, but that was just mean. Will was left whimpering and he just barely heard the sound of someone scuttling off.

Will felt the return of the presence from earlier before he heard it. He felt his chair being pushed towards the table which immediately rendered him quiet. Fingers slipped between Will’s scalp and the blindfold, and slipped the fabric off easily. It wasn’t much a transition; Will blinked once and the restaurant’s dining hall was clear again. He could make out the tables, the decor, the shelves, all without any trouble. It was easier to see everything after being totally in the dark for so long, really. Most importantly, of course, he could see Hannibal gazing down at him.

“Enjoying yourself?” Hannibal asked, impartial and yet pleased at the same time. Or maybe he wasn’t pleased at all. Reading Hannibal was still a challenge in itself.

“Something like that,” Will said, hopefully betraying nothing with his own tight frown. 

“It’s strange to you, being cared for so fully.”

Hannibal leaned down and picked up the utensils on the table, drawing Will’s attention to the platters there. One was off to the side and covered, likely the vegetable from earlier. On the on in front of him, cutlets of some kind sat, stewing in thick, dark juices. They resembled red meat, but something told Will that they weren’t. Maybe Hannibal’s food know-how was rubbing off on him.

“Not sure I’d call being edged to near-completion and then cut off “fully cared for,”” Will bit back, more bitter than he’d meant to be.

“Only a distraction,” Hannibal said as he cut off a bit of meat. “I doubt you’d have been so compliant for so long given only a single focus.”

“You’re trying to coerce me to eat more?”

“There’s no trying to it, Will,” Hannibal said, giving him a half-smile.

Hannibal brought the piece he’d cut off up to Will’s lips and right away he knew exactly why Hannibal had blindfolded him. It was nerve-wracking, having Hannibal essentially spoon-feeding him with his face right there. Hannibal hadn’t stopped cooking for him since they’d met, but he’d never been quite this direct. Will really wouldn’t have minded that blindfold right then. His eyes darted from the fork to Hannibal and he refused the open his mouth.

“It’s a unique dish,” Hannibal said after a moment of waiting. “Elegant in flavor and yet complex in preparation. I’m certain you would appreciate it.”

Tempting, but not enough to break Will out his trance of hesitation. 

“Of course, if you’d prefer, I’m willing to prepare something else,” Hannibal suggested.

That idea had Will’s stomach twisting all over again. He’d had perfectly good food put in front of him and he didn’t have to so much as lift a finger for it. Will didn’t know what he’d do if Hannibal went to the trouble of making a completely new dish for him, just because he hadn’t accepted the first one. Finally, he managed to swallow his pride and bite off what the fork had skewered.

“Good boy,” Hannibal breathed, petting through his hair once before moving to cut another piece.

It was slow going from then on, Hannibal stretching out the time between bites. Will had ample time to chew and savor the rich meat with all its juices. It wasn’t red meat, Will was certain of that much, but the way it tasted almost the same. Tender as it was, the texture was a bit too stringy not to say it was a bird of some kind. Chicken, maybe, but then, Hannibal didn’t make fancy chicken very often. He seemed more appreciative of duck, goose, and other waterfowl. He may have even explained that quirk to Will once, but Will wasn’t sure if he’d ever understand, let alone remember, Hannibal’s gourmet jargon.

A few bites in, Will couldn’t help but feel the urge to do something to take the edge off. Being quiet and submissive about being fed didn’t seem quite right. He knew he’d make a fool of himself if he opened his mouth for anything more than eating, but what else could he do?

“So, who were they?” Will asked.

“They?” Hannibal echoed, eying him like the question was something peculiar.

“You know,” Will said, giving a vague tilt of his head in the direction he assumed the third party went. “Them.”

“The only “they” I know of is the two of us, Will.”

Will gave a breath of laughter as he imagined Hannibal glaring down at one of his poor employees sucking Will off. It was impressive, the sheer control and dominance that Hannibal asserted by doing relatively little. Whomever had been in on this little game, he may as well have been an extension of Hannibal’s will.

“Whatever you say,” he said, head tilting downward

No reply from there, not even a glance from Hannibal. So Will, once again, was left at the mercy of Hannibal’s pace. It was a slog, watching Hannibal cut his meat for him with no option to move at his own pace. Without the previous overstimulation, Will couldn’t help but want to move a bit faster with the food. In simple terms, he was bored. Speaking up hadn’t bitten him too hard for his trouble so far. What else could he say? What hadn’t he said? Plenty of things, but a thought that had started at their first meal together occurred to him.

“You haven’t been giving me oversized portions, have you?” Will asked, looking up once again.

Another look from Hannibal as though the question was particularly strange.

“Given the state I found you in, I’d call them appropriate portions,” 

“Trying to fatten me up, doctor?”

A moment’s hesitation, Hannibal glancing at him.

“I would consider an uptick in your weight a victory of sorts,” he conceded

“Congratulations then,” Will said, not quite as much bite in his tone as he’d expected.

Hannibal stopped before he could stab another bit of meat in favor of looking Will in the eye.

“How much have you gained, Will?” he asked, voice a little too quiet.

“Six pounds,” Will said, desperately trying to keep his eyes on Hannibal’s. “Maybe more.”

Will knew instinctively that Hannibal didn’t emote strongly nor clearly. He was subtle and soft-spoken and kept every card close to his chest. Because of that automatic knowledge, Will couldn’t help but be perturbed at the sudden, very apparent spark of pride in Hannibal’s eyes and the smile that crossed his face.

“Isn’t that astounding?” he said, leaning down to rub Will’s side and squeeze just above his hip.

“If you keep doing this, I’ll start to think you’re trying to make me fat.”

“Not at all,” Hannibal murmured, his voice dropping in pitch as he leaned down and trailed his hand down the crease of his thigh. “I only like being able to touch you properly.” At those words he gave Will’s hip a sharp pinch.

Will whined at the pain, but could only struggle to shift away from it. It only lasted the briefest of moments, yet by the time Hannibal’s attention was back on the meat, Will had shivers running down his spine. He hadn’t been touched like that in as long as he could remember. It was bizarre. Kind of nice, but bizarre. He wanted more of it, he realized with a thick swallow. As soon as Hannibal had cut another fine sliver of meat, Will already had his head tilted back, neck exposed. Hannibal seemed aware of the change, his lips tilting just subtly as he put the fork carefully between Will’s lips, allowing him to bite around the succulent piece of meat there.

The meat seemed different, now, as looked into Hannibal’s eyes while he chewed. It had crossed over into eroticism a fair while ago, but it still seemed more intimate somehow, looking into Hannibal’s eyes, even more so than getting his cock sucked during. He was half-hard again, ready for more blatantly sexual touches. It was terrifying, awkward and uncomfortable, but Will wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else just then. Hannibal’s eyes had a knowing glint Will had seen before, one that made him wonder if Hannibal was a true mind reader.

As Hannibal moved back to the table, cutting another bite for Will to eat, it occurred to Will how easy it would have been for Hannibal to murder him. A dark thought, maybe, but then, Will’s mind was a little dark. He knew Hannibal wouldn’t - that would have been absurd - but he couldn’t help himself. It would have been disgustingly easy for Hannibal to forego his lips and shove that fork into his neck. One smooth motion, piercing his jugular before yanking it out. Will would have bled to death with no one to turn to. The image buried its way into his brain and Will felt an uptick in his breathing.

Hannibal didn’t. He put it right between his lips again, and watched intently as Will chewed. Then, in a move faster than Will thought him possible of, he ducked down and crouched between his legs. Will flinched at the movement, but Hannibal didn’t seem displeased by the reaction. If anything, that small smile seemed a fraction of an inch wider.

He didn’t say anything, only carefully pulled at the bindings around Will’s ankles, gently loosening them. Will had almost forgotten what it was like to have open air against the skin there. It was strange and not very welcoming. Being bound was just as strange, but it gave him a private sense of security. He wasn’t sure if he could manage to tell Hannibal that, but that was the truth.

Hannibal made short work of his ankles and stood up to touch one of his wrists.

“No,” Will whispered, not even thinking about it.

Hannibal turned his head up and blinked at Will.

“What was that?” he asked.

Will’s throat was dry and he could barely look Hannibal in the eye. Why had he spoken? If he’d kept quiet, everything would have gone fine and there wouldn’t have been any problems.

“Will, if you’ve had second thoughts-”

“No,” Will repeated, shaking his head. “I haven’t, it’s just- can you please keep them where they are?”

His face was hot and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. It hurt asking. It hurt speaking. He knew what he wanted, but asking for it made his throat burn.

Will felt Hannibal’s cool hand touch his cheek, stroking lightly. He dared a glance Hannibal’s way and found him smiling, just as subtle as he was used to, but unusually warm.

“Does it give you comfort?” Hannibal asked. “To be bound?”

Will couldn’t lie to him. He gave a few small nods.

“Yeah,” he breathed around his tight throat. “It does.”

“Then by all means, we’ll keep them on.”

With that Hannibal knelt down and looked him up and down. His eyes were thoughtful and only through context could Will understand what he was thinking about. Were Will’s ankles still bound, it would make full-on sex impossible. With only his wrists, the logistics still weren’t ideal. But if Will knew Hannibal, he’d find a way.

Hannibal brought his hands down underneath Will’s knees and dragged him forward. The angle of Will’s back grew less and less comfortable every inch he moved, but never did he find himself too uncomfortable with his arms locked in where they were. Hannibal arranged Will’s legs around his back and Will complied immediately, practically clinging to him that way. He’d waited long enough to get to this point and he wasn’t giving it up any time soon.

Hannibal pressed his pelvis up against Will’s ass before reaching down to undo his pants.

“Do you need further preparation?” Hannibal asked, glancing up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“No,” Will hissed, clenching the armrests. “Just- just do it. I want it.”

For all the veiled lust in Hannibal’s face, his smug little smile still shone through.

“As you wish, my dear.”

Will tipped his head back as far as it would go, doing his best to remember to breathe. He felt Hannibal’s flesh brushing up against his own, felt their cocks briefly rub together as Hannibal shifted them both into position. Hannibal pulled back a few inches, leaving Will hanging for a hellish few seconds, but any anxiety was forgotten as Hannibal finally slid inside of him.

“Ahn, fuck,” Will breathed, teeth slipping off of his lip. That was strange. He was sure that the penetration should have hurt, but it didn’t really. It didn’t feel the nicest, but it wasn’t nearly as painful as the first time they’d done this. That was bad; he hadn’t wanted to get used to any of what Hannibal did for him, he hadn’t-

His train of thought was violently derailed as Hannibal pulled away, only to yank Will back down.

“Jesus!” Will yelped, heels scrabbling against Hannibal’s back.

“No church talk, Will, please,” Hannibal implored him, even as he leaned down to kiss Will’s forehead. “Our sins are quite enough as they are.”

“I’ll- I’ll say what I-”

Hannibal shoved up into Will, jabbing right against his prostate.

“ _Fuck_!”

Even barely coherent and lucid on a cocktail of hormones, Will couldn’t help but wish that he could grab onto Hannibal. If his hands weren’t tied, he’d have leaped into Hannibal’s arms by now. Hannibal was perfectly capable of lifting him, Will knew, so testing those capabilities wasn’t out of the question.

Hannibal clicked his tongue, as though he wasn’t just as affected as Will.

“I suppose there’s no hope for some habits.”

From there on, Hannibal set an odd pattern. His thrusts were a pendulum of pulling Will down onto his cock and pushing him back up, never once fully removing himself from Will. Despite his seemingly relaxed demeanor, Will saw how overwhelmed Hannibal was. His neatly combed hair had fallen into disarray, clinging to his forehead with sweat. The rise and fall of his furred chest had grown uneven with the effort of supporting Will’s weight. The lust- no, the _hunger_ in his eyes was more apparent than Will had ever seen it. Hannibal was getting exactly what he wanted and that was Will. Will wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Nonetheless, Will felt compelled to push even further. He’d pushed himself far that night; it only seemed fair for Hannibal to get a bit of tit for tat.

“Hannibal,” Will breathed, skirting his nails against the chair. “I want-”

He stopped, but, for once, not because he’d doubted himself. He simply couldn’t find the words to describe what he wanted.

“Anything,” Hannibal told him. “I’d give you anything, Will.”

“I want you to- to-” Will felt his face flush hot as he tried his best to find words. “Your fingers.”

Hannibal blinked at him once, but said nothing.

“Could you- could you get them near my mouth?” Will clarified with a heaving breath. “Please?”

Hannibal’s confusion evaporated all at once, replaced by smugness once more. All too slowly, Hannibal brought one hand up to cup around Will’s cheek and jaw, stroking the skin there. It was subtle, but the invitation was clear. Will tilted his head just enough to wrap his lips around Hannibal’s index finger, sucking and lapping around it in search of any remnants of flavor. Maybe Hannibal still had bits of fish or meat on him, but Will couldn’t help but want to think he always tasted as rich as the food he made.

Hannibal’s facade of calm was finally beginning to break away and Will kept his eyes on Hannibal’s all the while as he licked the pad of his finger. All of a sudden, Hannibal shoved a second into Will’s mouth. Will nearly gagged as he worked to accommodate it, but accommodate he did. Only when a third pushed it’s way inside did Will begin to slaver down his chin. Will hadn’t expected that Hannibal would tolerate something so unsightly, but something in his eyes told Will that he didn’t care.

For a while, Will felt trapped there. Hannibal continued the slow back-and-forth of their hips and all Will could do was moan around his mouthful. He felt Hannibal’s fingers shifting about inside, petting his plush tongue and feeling its texture. Some sick part of him would have preferred a proper gag or even a return of their third-party, but neither had been discussed. Will was in no position to be talking anyway.

After one too many desperate groans, Hannibal growled. _Growled_. Will had seldom heard a sound like that come from Hannibal. Will gave a squeak that came out as a gurgle before Hannibal pulled the digits out of his mouth and replaced them at Will’s hip. Will barely had time to raise his head back up before Hannibal slammed into him.

Will’s jaw stretched open with a strained howl. Even after the sound had died, it seemed to stick in place, leaving Will gaping as he stared up at Hannibal. There was no slowing down from there; Hannibal had unleashed a mad frenzy of sharp thrusts on him. Heaven and Hell all in one package.

Will couldn’t seem to focus on any one thing, but he caught glimpses. Hannibal’s mouth was ajar just a bit and his lips curled past his teeth. It occurred to Will that he never really saw Hannibal’s teeth. Quick glimpses, maybe, during meals or conversations, but never out like they were just then. Hannibal’s eyes had gone wild, staring at Will as though he was a particularly choice cut of meat. He looked like an animal. A predator.

Once again, it struck Will just how easy it would be for Hannibal to murder him at any point. The thought made Will shudder, but that fear was accompanied by something more: adrenaline. His fight-or-flight instinct was out in force and without the option to do either, the extra excitement only fueled his erection. Will had to make an effort to continue breathing as his limbs began to shake and his toes curled. Had Hannibal not had his hands on Will’s legs, they would have fallen limp to the floor. Hannibal was all-but-ramming Will’s back into his seat for the sake of fucking him as he was, and Will knew that that would leave him sore, but somehow he didn’t care. It felt good enough to not care.

“Hannibal,” Will rasped, unfocused eyes shifting up to meet wild ones. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

Hannibal’s nostrils flared and he glowered at Will. It wasn’t angry, really, it was lustful and feral and utterly consumed with desire. Will’s belly tightened and sparked at that look alone.

He felt one of Hannibal’s hands leave his thigh and, just as expected, it dropped down, leaving Hannibal with a more lopsided angle. Will raised his head, looking for where Hannibal’s hand was going, when Hannibal grabbed his neck just beneath his chin.

Will opened his mouth reflexively and was met with an even tighter grip, Hannibal’s thumb pressing hard into the side of his neck. He could gasp in air just barely, and the restriction was only growing. It was slow, but methodical, like a snake crushing its prey in powerful coils. Breathing had already been difficult and combined with Hannibal’s relentless onslaught, his balls were tightening up fast. Will barely comprehended what he was seeing before Hannibal leaned forward and sunk his teeth into Will’s neck. Pain with a hint of pleasure.

He choked out something that might have been Hannibal’s name or a plea to God or even a wordless cry of pleasure. His hands twisted as far as they’d go and his legs strained outward. Too much, too good, too fast. Will only managed to focus on Hannibal’s face for another couple of seconds before his eyes rolled back and he his climax hit him like a truck.

Will didn’t even try to hold back the garbled moan as viscous fluid spurted over his abdomen. Even muffled by the hand on his neck, the noise echoed through the room, bouncing off of the walls and surrounding them. Will was suddenly hyper-aware of every touch, every sound, every growly grunt coming from Hannibal as he worked to get himself off. The hand on his neck eased up, giving him room to catch his breath and refocus his vision. Relief. Relief all around. Beautiful salvation.

The teeth and hand on his neck disappeared then, no doubt leaving a harsh mark in their wake. Just as Will found Hannibal’s face again, his teeth had clenched as he was pushing himself over the edge. Will saw clearly as the animalistic quality to Hannibal’s face peaked before fading away. His lips went back over his teeth, his eyes returned to their half-lidded standard, his facial muscles relaxed. All the while, he felt Hannibal’s cock twitching inside of him and subsequently softening. It wasn’t nearly as intense as anything before, yet still Will found it pleasurable enough.

Hannibal met Will’s eyes, the rise and fall of his chest still heavy. A tired smile came across his face and Will couldn’t help but echo the expression.

“Well done,” Hannibal said, slipping out of Will and moving to loose his bonds.

Will shook his head limply. “Doesn’t take much to sit around and get fed.”

“I’d say that quite the opposite is true for you, Will.”

The rope around his right wrist came undone, allowing Will to pull out of it and flex his hand.

“Had I offered this much on our first meeting, would you have accepted?” Hannibal continued, hesitating on the second rope.

Will bit his lip. On one hand, it had been easy just sitting there and letting Hannibal do what he wanted. On the other hand, if he hadn’t been tied down, Will might very well have fled the restaurant an hour ago. The entire situation was paradoxical.

“No,” he admitted at last.

Hannibal gave a smile that Will might have called smug had he not detected a hint of satisfaction. He pulled off the final tie and backed off, giving Will room to stand on shaky feet. As he found his balance, Hannibal turned to organize the forgotten plates and utensils, stacking them all in one place.

“So,” Will said, filling up a perceived empty space between them. “You got dessert planned out?”

Hannibal looked at him with a perplexed blink.

“Haven’t you had enough?” he asked, unbelievably straight-faced.

Will pouted a bit, intentionally putting on a wide-eyed desperate expression.

“You said you’d give me anything,” he cajoled, reaching down to rub a hand over his belly. It felt weird, acting a certain way because he knew Hannibal wouldn’t say no. “I want cake.”

Hannibal took the time to click his tongue, as though he was thinking particularly hard about this issue.

“Please?” Will tried, adding a little whimper at the end for emphasis. Tossing his pride away for the sake of getting what he wanted was weird, but, then again, he’d get what he wanted that way. He could occasionally sacrifice his dignity for that.

Hannibal sighed and adjusted his pants, giving Will a faux-exasperated grimace.

“I suppose given how starved you are, it would be cruel to deny you.”

With a poke to Will’s ribs, Hannibal gathered up the plates and headed for the kitchen.

“I have clothes for you,” he said as he exited. “Stay put.”

“Thank you,” Will said quietly, sitting back down with a suppressed smile.

He sat there for a few minutes, waiting for Hannibal to return, and the memories of what had passed between them swirled about in his head. To his surprise, an actual smile broke out across his face. Will hadn’t really imagined the entire exchange being so enjoyable. He’d feared that he would want to stop half-way through, but it hadn’t been nearly as taxing as he’d anticipated. Or, maybe, as taxing as Hannibal had made it out to be. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was almost looking forward to trying more of the same, more adventurous, dominating sex. Just then, though, Will really wanted that cake.

*****

“You’ll end up spoiled if I keep allowing this,” Hannibal mused, holding a fork to Will’s mouth.

The two of them were laying on Hannibal’s bed, Will reclined back against Hannibal like an armchair. They’d come home and Will had showered while Hannibal prepared the cake. His hair was still a bit damp and he’d draped the plush bathrobe Hannibal had given him over his form. Will had never thought of himself as a bathrobe kind of guy, but he couldn’t deny how comfortable it was. It gelled so well with the entire situation; a complete experience of lazy comfort, courtesy of Hannibal.

Will snapped up the bit of spongy bread, greedily swallowing everything that passed his lips.

“And whose fault is that?” he countered, licking his lips.

Hannibal reached down to squeeze at Will’s hip.

“I wouldn’t take that tone, Will,” he warned. “It’s unsightly for someone as pretty as yourself.”

_Pretty_. Will didn’t speak, but couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He wasn’t anything special to look at and flattery wouldn’t change that.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed as Hannibal clicked his tongue.

“You’ve many poor habits, Will,” he chided.

“And you’re gonna feed them out of me?”

“As best as I can.”

With that delightfully vague answer, Hannibal’s free hand came up to fondle Will’s belly. A laugh tore its way out of Will’s throat at the light touch. He was never going to get used to that.

“Don’t,” he said, no power behind the word.

“I put this flesh on you,” Hannibal whispered, pinching a small fold of fat as he did. “It’s only right I get to acquaint myself with it.”

Will yelped at the nip of pain, but made no move to push Hannibal away. He wasn’t wrong per se, and the attention was pleasant in its own way. Still, he couldn’t just let Hannibal get away scot-free.

“So that’s it then?” he asked, tipping his head back. “You feed me for your own sick pleasure?”

Hannibal leaned down to kiss Will’s forehead. “On that point, I won’t argue.”

He placed the fork down with the empty cake plate before his second hand joined the first over Will’s belly. Will tensed up with anticipation. What had been simple rubbing and exploring became a full-on massage. Hannibal’s fingers dug into both the pudge and muscles of his lower abdomen, gentle and just enough to coerce Will into a state of relaxation. Will felt himself melt back into Hannibal from that alone, his head tilting to the side against Hannibal’s chest. Maybe getting used to being here wasn’t so bad. Maybe he really didn’t need to worry anymore. He felt so cared for and wanted that it was near-impossible to resist the idea. Will’s eyes flickered shut as Hannibal made lazy circles over his flesh, and his mind began to wander. He wasn’t used to being taken care of - didn’t generally like it even- but somehow that didn’t matter. Right then, Hannibal loved him and he could sleep well in that knowledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This did not need to take about a month to complete, but God forbid I put anything out in a timely manner. Really, though, I'm just glad to have it done. Hope you've enjoyed.


End file.
